


APOLLOgies and Beginnings

by to_the_barricades



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grantaire being Grantaire, M/M, Oblivious Enjolras, Oblivious Grantaire, Sad Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/to_the_barricades/pseuds/to_the_barricades
Summary: Enjolras messes up and takes his argument with Grantaire a little too far during a meeting.Now he has to fix it.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	APOLLOgies and Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> It's the first ExR fic I've written, and most of it was finished in the middle of the night so-- enjoy my bad writing :)

“Grantaire, wait I…”

But Grantaire was already out the door, leaving Enjolras gaping after him with half of his arm raised out as if that would stop the man in question from exiting the Musian. Enjolras heard Combeferre sigh next to him.

"Good luck getting yourself out of this one, Enj.”

***

Enjolras had messed up. 

He didn’t mean for their argument to get that far. But one second they were arguing across the cafe about something, and then he was yelling, telling Grantaire to leave and never come back to any of the meetings ever again. 

Enjolras still remembers Grantaire’s face, where for a moment his face had fallen but then painfully smiled. He had kept eye contact with Enjolras as he stood up, grabbed his bottle of wine and then looked away, walking out of the Musain, leaving everyone in an uncomfortable silence. Courfeyrac had frozen, Comberre had closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, and Marius had watched from the corner where he sat with Cosette with his eyes wide and mouth agape, nearly knocking over his cup of wine. 

And Enjolras, he had just stood there and let it happen as he was still in shock from his own words, with only one weak attempt at calling after him. But by this point Grantaire wouldn’t be able to even hear him because he was probably already walking down the street and away. 

And now the blonde revolutionary was pacing his flat, unsure of how to proceed forward with this. He stopped walking around and went to go sit down on the couch, burying his face in his hands. 

_ It's fine. It'll be fine. He'll just show up tomorrow because that's what Grantaire does, he never listens so he's bound to show up tomorrow, obviously.  _

***

Grantaire didn't show up the next day.

Everyone had arrived except for the cynic artist, his chair empty at the back table of the Musain just how he had left it yesterday before walking out. 

Forever. 

_ No, don't think like that. He'll show up eventually… _

But he didn't. Enjolras kept checking the door every ten minutes or so during his speeches, hoping a certain dark haired man would waltz through and reclaim his spot in the back as if nothing happened. 

Combeferre went up to him at the end of the meeting as Enjolras was stacking papers and tidying up his writings. Or trying to, when in reality he was standing there, his mind blank and his eyes burning a hole through the same spot at the table that he had been staring at for the past three minutes. 

"Dude, you should really go find him."

Enjolras refused to make eye contact with his friend, trying to ignore the guilt that was slowly but surely building up in his chest

"I don't know who you're exactly talking about, there's a lot of us here and I'm-" 

"Jesus, Enjolras," Enjolras's gaze was diverted from his papers when he felt Combeferre's hand on his shoulder, motioning him to turn around. 

Enjolras turned around and sighed, holding eye contact with his friend. Combeferre was looking at him with both pity and annoyance, as if he were trying to take care of a five year old child. 

"Look," Combeferre started, "Grantaire. You need to go find him, and I will bet you that he's in his flat drinking anything and everything he can find in his cupboards. And I know you know that what you did was really shitty and completely insensitive, so I'm begging you to go find him, and talk to him. Apologize."

Enjolras knew he should, and he decided that tonight he will. He talked to Combeferre briefly after that and headed out of the Musain. 

As he walked down the already dark street with his head low, he reminisced all the times him and Grantaire had argued. 

Everytime he shot accusing words at Grantaire, the cynic wouldn't ever look personally offended. He would either retort back with a playful gleam in his eye, or just sit back and smile while Enjolras ranted on. 

Great now he felt even more like an asshole. 

He stopped walking and stared blankly ahead into the street before turning around and making the quick decision that might save him.

***

There was a sudden knock on the door.

Grantaire was awoken from his spot where he had fallen asleep on the table. He opened his eyes to a now blurry and barely visible empty bottle of wine staring back at him. 

The candle had gone out.

He rubbed his eyes lazily and sat up straighter in his chair, the bottle coming clearly into view. The knock at the door sounded again, this time louder and clearer than before.

"Grantaire! Open the door!"

Grantaire froze at the familiar voice. 

_ Enjolras.  _

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. What could he want? He already kicked him out of the Musain, was he here to remind him that he's not welcome? To thank him for not showing up?

Grantaire stood up and walked to the door, preparing for whatever Enjolras might say to him next. 

The door was swung open and Enjolras was standing there, hair slightly messed up from the breeze and hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets. 

The blonde didn't look angry or frustrated. Grantaire was surprised when Enjolras gave him a small smile and his blue eyes met Grantaire's green ones awkwardly. 

"Can I… can I come in?"

Grantaire's throat had closed up and was only able to nod slowly, unable to take his eyes off of Enjolras who ran a hand through his blond curls as he stepped inside. 

Also because of the top three buttons of his shirt that had so not nicely been unbuttoned, revealing Enjolras's collarbones and a bit of his chest. The low lighting wasn't making the situation any better. 

Grantaire swallowed and looked away quickly with a jerk of his head, aware of his face heating up. What the actual-

"Grantaire?"

Grantaire's head shot up to find Enjolras staring at him, a worried look painting his features. What was happening? Why did Enjolras come to his flat at this time of night? 

"Yeah?"

"I uh," Enjolras shifted nervously, toying with his hands, "I came to apologize. For how I acted towards you at the Musain. And not just when I told you to leave, all the other times too."

Grantaire could not believe what was happening. Enjolras was standing in front of him, apologizing, and looking adorably flustered for some reason. 

He reached out a hand, "Hey, Apollo, it's all good." Grantaire said. 

Enjolras furrowed his brow, "But I was horrible, and i-" he stopped and looked at Grantaire curiously. 

"Why do you call me Apollo?"

Grantaire laughed at this, "Do you not see it?"

Enjolras still stood there looking confused, and crossed his arms. "What's so funny?" He asked skeptically. 

Grantaire chuckled and let out a long sigh. "Oh Enjolras. Do you really not see it? You look like a fucking marble statue. Your hair looks like it's made of gold. Even Apollo himself would be jealous of your beauty." He willed himself not to look down at where Enjolras's shirt was still unbuttoned at the top. It was strange, the newfound confidence that had found him. A week ago he would've never imagined saying all that to him directly. Let alone in his apartment with Enjolras looking like  _ that. _

Enjolras's blue eyes widened, "I.." his face reddened and speech faltered, leaving Grantaire grinning at him widely. It was a sight Grantaire never wanted to forget. 

Enjolras cleared his throat and regained his posture. "Well..uh.. thanks?" They stood there in silence before Enjolras started lingering towards the door. "I'd better get going through."

Grantaire's eyes sparkled as he continued gaze at Enjolras. "Don't mention it. And also- apology accepted." 

Grantaire walked him to the door and suddenly it occurred to him that he didn't the leader in red to leave. 

"Thanks for letting me in. I'll see you tomorrow?" Enjolras looked at him a bit shyly from under his fringe. 

_ There goes my chance.  _ Grantaire mused, smiling at Enjolras and extending his hand, "Yes, tomorrow." He affirmed.

Enjolras took his hand and shook it, trying to ignore how  _ perfectly  _ their hands fit. But it was over as soon as it started and they were saying goodbye. 

Grantaire closed the door shut and couldn't stop smiling. He ran a hand through his hair happily and headed off to bed. 

_ Yes, tomorrow. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I love these idiots so much.


End file.
